Accidents
by moustachelove
Summary: Feliciano always loved his brother. Lovino just didn't always know exactly what that meant. 2Ptalia-verse, with one-sided Itacest, hints of Spamano, Prumano, GerIta, and various pairings. Warnings inside.
1. The Accident

_Summary: Feliciano always loved his brother. Lovino just didn't always know exactly what that meant. 2Ptalia-verse, with one-sided Itacest, hints of Spamano, Prumano, GerIta, and various pairings. _

_Warnings: Character Death, Cannibalism, violence, and strong language._

_Firstly, I'd like to say that I don't know very much about the 2P!characters, so I am shaping most of them into how I picture they would be reverse-excluding Germany, who I'll be leaving in his 1P!version for reasons. The appearances I'll give are mostly from what I've seen the characters drawn like by various artists, such as miaman and multiple ask-2P blogs on tumblr. _

_Also, I myself am not very good at writing fics such as these, but after looking at just a few pictures online, such as the one i chose as the cover which frankly started it all for me, I developed a small plot which I hope to work on and finish by summer's end. Updates are whenever I can make them possible, and reviews/critique is warmly welcome. _

_Without further wait, I give to you: Accidents._

_-Santana._

* * *

"Ugh, Nonno, why do we have to go in the stupid woods?"

The young boy kicked rocks as he, his older brother, and his grandfather all trudged up the small hill not too far from their house into the woods. It was cold, the boy was cranky, and all he really wanted was to eat and go to bed. Whose big idea was it to take a family camping trip in the first place?

"Oh, cheer up, Feli," He looked up as his older brother grinned, "The woods isn't so bad."

Oh right, he smirked, it was that dumb brother of his, Lovino. The boy always thought his brother smiled too much, told too many bad jokes, and ran his mouth more than he should. Despite all that, he somewhat looked up to him. After all, no one really messed with his big brother, so maybe if he tried to be like him, people wouldn't talk about him so much.

It wasn't his fault he liked playing with switchblades and knifes. The gleam the perfect lighting gave them were amazing. The sound of the blades cutting into something wasn't half-bad either. Of course, his stupid grandfather had forbidden him from cutting the hair of their cats, the skin on his finger, Lovino's whole body, and pretty much anywhere else he'd tried, but he was still hopeful, looking for loopholes.

The party of three found a nice place to rest and the boy found a nice place to sit while the other two put up the tent and set up a fire. The boy smiled, he'd always liked fires. Whenever he had to get rid of something, fire always did the trick. Plus, the warmth they gave off always made him feel pretty nice, if he could even use that word.

His grandfather cooked dinner, and they all ate silently, spare a few more bad jokes from Lovino from time to time. The boy rubbed his eyes, tossing his plate on the ground when he was done. "I'm going to bed."

A firm hand grabbed his shoulder. "Feliciano, pick up the plate."

He turned, glaring angrily at his grandfather and shaking his hand off, "I _said_ I was going to bed. You pick it up, old man."

"Feliciano," He could tell the man was on his very last string, as if he cared. "Just pick up the plate. You haven't done anything but sit and scowl since we got here. The least you could do is pick up the plate."

"I'm not picking up the stupid plate!" Feliciano hissed, stomping into the tent. "Leave me alone."

He heard his grandfather swear, and already he'd drawn his switchblade for when he stepped into the tent.

"I'll get it," He faintly heard Lovino say, "It's not a big deal. You know Feli's cranky sometime—"

_Smack_.

Feliciano rushed out of the tent, seething as he saw his brother holding his face with hazel eyes widened in shock, his grandfather the closest person to him.

"You hit him!" He screamed, charging towards the man and knocking him down. "You hit him, you asshole!"

He could see the fear written on his grandfather's face, "Neither of you listen—"

The little brunette boy didn't want to hear it.

A bloodcurdling scream was released into the air, his brother the only witness to what had happened that night.

No one messed with his big brother.

Not one.


	2. Shock Values

_I apologize that the chapters are short, but I'm just setting the story for now. They will eventually get longer, I promise!_

_-Santana_

* * *

"Let's play a game!"

It was an accident, Lovino tried to convince himself weeks later. His little brother didn't mean to plunge his silly little blade into his grandfather's chest. He was just scared. He reacted too quickly. His hands slipped.

The lies just didn't seem good enough.

Summer was almost over, and almost everyone in town knew about Romulus Vargas's final night. The rumors quickly spread that Feliciano had done it, his devilish nature finally coming to light, but Lovino had them convinced he'd only fallen, tripped over a rock and fell on the blade to his death. After all, he'd lied, Feliciano was only 6, and he was 10, and they were both incapable of killing anyone. They all believed him, of course, and life went on. None would forget, however, and with them both being orphaned and living on their own (no one dared take them in, in case their fate was worse than Romulus), it was getting harder and harder for Lovino to get the townspeople to pity them.

"Lovi!" His brother pounced on him, knocking him on his back, "Aren't you listening to me?"

"Of course," He half-smiled, "What game do you want to play?"

He watched as the boy's dark eyes rolled up to the ceiling, as if looking for an answer. "Let's play…hide and seek! You count first, though."

Lovino would've rolled his eyes if his brother hadn't run off, screaming, "No peeking!"

With a sigh, he stood up, dusting off his clothes before covering his eyes and counting to ten. He'd even counted slowly just to give his brother some extra time, though he knew he wouldn't really need it. Uncovering his eyes, he check the first place he would've thought of: the hallway closet.

It was a mistake.

He swallowed, staring at the three barely dressed women hanging from the ceiling. Their mascara tears had long dried, and they were missing limbs—one was missing an arm, another missing a hand, the last a leg. They seemed to be staring right at him as he closed the closet just barely, sliding against the door to the floor.

His brother didn't do that, he convinced himself. Someone had simply done it to scare the two of them. It didn't mean anything. Nothing at all.

"Lovino!" He didn't realize how long he'd been sitting there, and again he'd been attacked by his brother, the small boy punching him roughly in the stomach. "You didn't even look for me, you ass! And why are you sitting in front of my closet!"

Feliciano wasn't capable of killing people, he told himself that night as they watched another one of their favorite movies. The younger boy had long nodded off, a frown on his face as he curled up on the opposite side of the couch. He would've carried him to his bed had the doorbell not rang.

"Oh, it's you."

He didn't completely understand why the man kept visiting him. Only when Feliciano was sleeping the strange man came, smelling strongly of alcohol yet always asking for a cup of coffee. Neither of the boys drank the hot drink, but his grandfather had plenty of it stocked away. The first time he'd let the man show him how to make it, and he'd been doing it himself ever since.

The man didn't ask a lot of questions like everyone else did. He didn't snoop around the house or poke around where he didn't belong. He just sat at the table, drank his coffee, patted the boy's head, and left. Sometimes they talked about their days. Sometimes they didn't talk at all. Lovino didn't even know the man's name or where he lived, only that his friends were named Gilbert and Francis.

"Come live with me."

Lovino looked up from one of the many coloring books some of the townspeople had given them as gifts after the funeral. Feliciano didn't care for them, tearing the pages to shreds, but when he himself got bored, he'd color them. "What?"

"You and your brother shouldn't be living here alone like this," The man put down his empty mug, "It's not safe. They could kill you."

Lovino didn't want to think his brother would kill them first. "Who?"

"The townspeople here don't like you," The man seemed to twitch, his bright green eyes wandering around the room, "I don't live near here, and it's safer there. My place isn't that big, but it's better than having to worry about seeing you dead."

The boy raised a brow, "Why do you even care? Why do you come here?"

"You're the first person since Gil and Franny not to shut me out," He shrugged, "I made the same mistake your brother did that night once, and nobody was there to take me away from it. It messed me up, querido. I don't want that happening to you."

Lovino's eyes widened, "How did you—"

"I know more about you than what you've told me, Lovino," The man stood up, pushing his chair in, "Your eyes give away everything. I'll be back in the morning to get you and Feliciano, and please don't keep me waiting."

"Wait!" The boy called out as the man stepped out the door, "I know even know your name!"

The man was long gone, but he still longed for an answer. With a yawn, he shut the door. Maybe if he drunk some coffee he'd last the rest of the night. He had some packing to do, and he didn't want to keep the man waiting in the morning.


End file.
